


Save a Dolphin, Ride a...

by LadyLondonderry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, that's it it's just a meet-cute, wallowing, watching The Devil Wears Prada and drinking hot chocolate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 04:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11615760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLondonderry/pseuds/LadyLondonderry
Summary: Harry's not good with words. One day after getting kicked out of his dorm for an afternoon(thanksLiam), he finds himself taking a nap on the oval, and waking up to find a mysterious stranger with a smart mouth and a petition to save the dolphins soliciting strangers for signatures. Harry is enamoured.





	Save a Dolphin, Ride a...

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! Just a tiny little thing because I'm in the middle of like 200 other things but still wanted a 1000 Feelings fic!
> 
> This fic was written as part of an ongoing challenge. We each select random numbers and are given a specific emotion from the book 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names. To read the other fics written in this challenge, [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ShortFic_Challenge_For_Which_There_Is_No_Name/works), or you can find the masterpost on tumblr [here](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/159679804243/1000-feelings-for-which-there-are-no-names-prompt).

Harry is very good at saying things that don’t make sense.

Sometimes, it seems like a legitimate skill. Maybe he can market it. Make a job out of the fact that nothing he says actually makes a lick of sense to anyone who hears him say it.

Other times, it seems like something he’d like to be able to turn off.

Liam is nice enough not to mock him for it, but that’s just Liam being  _ Liam. _ He couldn’t mock someone if he tried. Still, it’s more than a bit of a let-down that Liam is able to beat him in almost every argument they have just because Harry absolutely cannot think of comebacks to save his life.

Which may be why Harry is currently laying out under a tree on the oval right now. Liam needed peace in their room, he had said. He needed to be able to study for finals without Harry snoring, he said. He couldn’t go to the library because of  _ hayfever, _ he said.

_ “You’re _ a hayfever,” had been Harry’s  _ dignified  _ response as he left.

So now he’s laying under a tree in the oval with nowhere to go. He doesn’t have any more class to get to today, and before this he had really just been planning on laying around their room, maybe planning some Animal Crossing or watching some Gogglebox. It’s a lazy Wednesday afternoon and should be treated as such.

He has his phone with him but unfortunately no charger, so he refrains from pulling up an episode to watch on his phone. He’s got his shoulder bag but he’s definitely not going to  _ study. _

Sounds like it’s about time for a nap.

— 

It’s not the most pleasant, waking up with one’s back against a tree. It’s a little itchy and a little achey, as Harry learns as he tries to roll his shoulders. A university student and already he has a bad back, how pathetic.

He squints against the sun, a bit lower in the sky than it was when he last looked. There’s a cool breeze blowing that’s started to cover his legs in a few stray colourful leaves that he brushes off. Most of the students walking by have their headphones in, heads down as they scurry to class. It’s a wonderful thing to only have morning classes, Harry thinks. If you can wake up for it.

He’s just about to get up and go beg Liam to let him back into their room when a voice calls out behind him;

“Sign the petition to save the dolphins!”

Harry cranes his neck around, looking for the source of the voice. Save the dolphins? That’s just the sort of thing Harry would like to spend his time trying to save. He loves dolphins.

There’s a boy standing on the pavement just at the end of the walkway, close enough that Harry can hear everything he’s saying but far enough away that he’s not about to target Harry with his clipboard. Even from his spot on the ground, Harry can tell he’s not the tallest around. He’s not short though, so much as  _ compact. _ He looks like he could pack a punch. To defend a dolphin.

His hair is a fluffy chestnut brown and he’s got on a maroon shirt that shows off a tattoo sweeping across his collarbones that Harry can’t quite make out.

He’s got a clipboard in his hands that matches the clipboard of a boy sitting not too far from him in the grass, looking for all the world like he would like to be anywhere but here.

As someone walks by, face buried in a book, the boy steps into their path. “Hey, sign the petition, mate. Save the dolphins.”

Book-burrower tries to step around him, and when that doesn’t work mumbles that he “couldn’t give two fucks.”

“Only need to give one,” the boy says. “Write your name and I don’t have to follow you into the library to ask again.”

Harry watches as the stranger gives the boy a rather scandalized glance, but grabs the pen from his hand and scribbles onto the paper.

“I work in the guidance office, if you write down a fake name I’m hunting you down and changing your real name to it, so write carefully,” the boy says, making the stranger look even  _ more _ scandalized. Still, he hands the pen back and hurries on his way.

“That’s how you do it, Zayn,” the boy with the clipboard says to his friend in the grass. Harry’s impressed. He’s rather in awe. He’s never be able to get someone to sign a petition like that - too much stuttering and delayed reaction time.

This clipboard-wielding boy is a force to behold. He attacks every passer-by like it’s a personal affront to himself when they don’t want to sign, and his cutting remarks are good enough that Harry thinks he should be taking notes.

“You look like you’ve spent at least two hours on that makeup, but you won’t take twenty seconds to sign a petition and save some rubbery lives?”

“Make a fake e-mail to sign up for things like the rest of us, this is 2017 for godssakes.”

“I’m not asking you to go vegetarian, honey. I can assure you you don’t eat dolphin now.”

“You’re late to class? You’re always going to be late to class. I see that Starbucks in your hands. You’re telling me you care more about your iced cascara latte than about taking ten seconds to write your name on a cause that matters? For shame.”

“You, sir, are an ignorant twat of a man and if you don’t sign this clipboard I’ll tell your girl exactly what that makes you in my eyes.”

He’s impressively efficient, his clipboard filling up faster than Harry would have thought possible. His clipboard partner, Zayn, doesn’t lift a finger. He may have even fallen asleep.

Harry would gladly keep watching the boy do this for the rest of the day, but unfortunately he  _ does _ technically have some homework due for Rural Sociology 1001 in the morning, and he should probably get it done now, rather than suffer later. 

He stands up, feeling his back protest once again, and shoulders his bag. He wants to sign the boy’s petition before he goes, though - after all, it’s an inspiring cause. 

He turns and jumps, because the boy is suddenly  _ right in front of him _ (oh, he is just a bit shorter, and his eyes are a very nice shade of blue).

“Well, Tree Boy?” the boy says, raising an eyebrow. “You just going to stare at my arse all day and then try to leave without even signing?”

Harry gapes at him. “I- um, no! Of course not.” He wasn’t even staring at his arse! Much. His eyes are just as nice.

“Likely story.” The boy holds out the clipboard. “Sign.”

Harry takes it - the boy is funny and full of life, but more than a little intimidating when the remarks are pointed at him.

“Harry… Styles?” the boy reads upside down as Harry scribbles down on the clipboard. His name sounds  _ very nice _ coming out of this boy’s mouth, but- 

“You’re putting down a fake name? Really? I thought if you were going to go that route you’d at least pick a convincing one.”

Harry falters in writing out his e-mail. “No, that- It’s really my name.”

“Right, sure,” the boy rolls his eyes and glances down again. “Harry Flyles at Gmail? What, you couldn’t think of a good fake e-mail fast enough? You were laying there a good hour, I had more faith in you.”

“You didn’t have to be- I  _ wanted _ to sign it,” Harry chokes out, pushing the clipboard back towards the boy’s chest before taking off.

They weren’t especially mean remarks, Harry thinks in retrospect as he runs across campus, even as tears gather in the corners of his eyes. He shouldn’t be so worked up about this. The boy was a little rude to everybody, it was  _ funny _ until it came to Harry, because he clearly couldn’t take a joke.

He hurries back to his own dorm because he no longer  _ cares _ whether Liam is done studying or not. Harry wants to bundle himself up in his blankets and cry and maybe watch The Devil Wears Prada, his go-to comfort movie. 

When he opens the door to their room, Liam looks up from where he’s surrounded by textbooks and Harry is sure that he immediately notices his downturned lips and red eyes. 

Harry drops his bag, takes the few strides over to his bed, and faceplants. He sticks his arms under his pillow because Liam keeps the room chilly and he lets the soft fabric soothe his face until the fact that he can’t breathe through a pillow becomes a pressing issue.

When he rolls over, Liam comes into his line of sight, standing directly over him with a concerned look.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Harry mumbles.

“Want hot chocolate?”

“Yes please.”

Liam throws Harry’s duvet over him before he walks away.

Harry snuggles down into it, kicking his shoes over the side of his bed and seeking maximum comfort in soft things, grabbing his laptop from the end of the bed and booting it up to look for his movie of choice.

He just keeps thinking about the clipboard boy - feeling so utterly humiliated by the fact that he thought Harry was using a  _ fake name? _ It shouldn’t be so devastating but Harry had just felt so…  _ connected _ to the boy! He was standing up for a great thing that Harry supported wholeheartedly! He thought the boy could  _ tell _ that! Instead he was apparently just coming across as a lazy student who hates dolphins.

_ The boy probably thinks Harry hates dolphins! He probably hates Harry now too. _

Liam comes back from kitchenette (a mini fridge, microwave and toaster oven, really) and hands Harry his favourite mug (a pink Piglet mug that says  _ waiting for a friend) _ . Harry gives him a grateful smile, even though his eyes might still be leaking  _ just a little bit _ and takes a sip. It’s delicious.

He’s ready to spend the rest of the night recovering, grateful that Liam isn’t asking questions because this really doesn’t seem like something Harry should be freaking out about this much. But he’s warm and surrounded by soft things and his hot drink and movie of choice, so he’s going to try his best to forget what the boy with the clipboard probably assumed about him and just enjoy Andy getting fashionable and kicking butt.

— 

Just as Andy is telling Emily that she is no longer going to Paris (which has made Harry tear up  _ again _ because he’s already emotional and it was  _ Emily’s dream), _ a knock sounds at the door to their dorm room.

Harry looks up, hoping that Liam will answer it so that he doesn’t have to move, but realises to his shock that Liam isn’t in the room. Oh. That could be because he was watching the movie without headphones. Oops. He owes Liam one.

Who knocks on a dorm room without being expected? Weirdos, probably. Door to door dorm salesmen selling, what, drugs? Probably. Plus, Harry is very comfortable. He’s just decided he’s going to pretend no one is home and not get up to answer the door, when the knocking comes again, louder and more insistent.

“Fine, I’m coming,” Harry grumbles, pushing his laptop aside and climbing out from under his covers. Maybe Liam’s forgotten his key, that’s happened often enough.

Maybe he should have looked through the peephole before actually opening the door, because he’s entirely unprepared to see not a drug-toting college salesman  _ or _ Liam, but the boy from the oval. Dolphin boy.

“Uh-” says Harry. 

“Hi!” says the boy. “Harry Styles!” He’s clutching his clipboard from earlier to his chest, making him look much more vulnerable compared to when Harry saw him earlier.

“I- yes.” says Harry.

“I, um, I didn’t mean to make it sound like I didn’t believe you,” the boy says.

“But you didn’t,” Harry points out. 

“Well, yeah. But that doesn’t mean I needed to make it sound like it.”

“Oh,” says Harry, and see  _ this _ is one of those times where he would really like to deliver a snappy comeback, but his mind has gone completely blank. “Hi.”

“Hi!” says the boy again, sticking out his hand for Harry to shake. “I, um. I’m Louis. Since I already know your name.”

Harry shakes Louis’s hand. “Um, are you going door to door now? Because, like, there’s no one else here, so…”

Louis’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit no. Sorry.” He shifts the clipboard to his other hand. “I just came looking for you, actually. Because I’m an idiot and I think I put my mouth in it because you sort of ran away from me and I didn’t want that, yeah? Because I’m an idiot and I wish my mouth would just shut up sometimes. Like, a lot of the time, really. Right now would be a good example.”

“Um,” Harry says. Louis is speaking very fast, and Harry almost thinks he must be  _ nervous. _

“Yeah, see? Like that. I want to be like you. All not-fast and stuff. I bet you don’t have a problem with running your mouth all over the place, do you? Yeah, no. Of course you don’t. I bet you’re one of those people who gives sage advice that all their friends listen to. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you’re alright, you know? Are you?”

“Am I?” Asks Harry, his mind moving much faster than his mouth at this point as he thinks  _ dolphin boy is  _ nervous _ and his name is  _ Louis _ and he’s  _ cuter _ when he’s rambling. _

“Are you hurt? I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to. It’s a lovely name. And very real.”

Harry blinks at him. “How did you find me?”

“I looked you up?” Louis says, looking sheepish now. “Um. I work in the guidance office. I ran your name. Please don’t get me fired,” he says.

“Okay,” agrees Harry.

Louis looks at Harry.

Harry looks at Louis.

“I’m not, um, hurt.” Harry says, backtracking a little. “I mean, I maybe was, a bit? Because it felt like you didn’t like me. But I’m better now.”

“Are you?” Louis asks. “Are you sure? Because I’m not sure. I would like to be sure. So I want to take you out to dinner. So that I can be sure you don’t hate me.”

“Sorry, what?” Asks Harry faintly.

“Dinner,” Louis says. “I mean. I know this is very forward of me but your facebook, which is linked to your student account did you know? Well it did say you’re single and you’re very cute and your name is a little weird but if we were to get married it would be a great last name to have, I think.”

“If we were to-”

Louis raises his hand and slaps his fingers against his thumb in a shushing motion. “Please pretend I never said that. I talk more when I’m nervous. Never bring that up again. Or at least, for a year. Maybe bring it up after that. I’m sorry. I’m a disaster.”

“You do seem… more frazzled than earlier.”

Louis takes a deep breath and sighs. “I’m better at snappy comebacks when I know people are watching. This? This is weird and awkward. But I do want to take you to dinner. I don’t mean  _ you’re _ weird! Just me. I’m awkward. Will you go to dinner with me anyway?”

“Yes please,” says Harry, thankful to finally contribute something useful to the conversation.

“Good. Thank god. That means I can stop talking. Yes. I’ll pick you up in two hours, does that work? Because I need to go change. And put on more deodorant.  _ That is also something you didn’t need to know. I’m going to leave now before I make this worse.” _ He moves his clipboard to his other hand again and waves frantically before sprinting down the hallway, leaving Harry alone.

Two hours until Harry goes on a date. He hopes Liam gets back before then so he can convince Harry that he’s not dreaming.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me at [LondonFoginaCup](http://londonfoginacup.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!
> 
> And if you liked it, you can reblog the fic post [here!](http://londonfoginacup.tumblr.com/post/163448747774/save-a-dolphin-ride-a-ladylondonderry)


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